


Flooded Stars

by Tasyfa



Series: A Scattered Handful [5]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Spoilers for 2x05, Unreliable Narrator, do not copy to other sites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasyfa/pseuds/Tasyfa
Summary: What happened after Michael left the Crashdown.
Relationships: Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: A Scattered Handful [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1527596
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55





	Flooded Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prouvaireafterdark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvaireafterdark/gifts).



> So I saw a tag on one of @prouvaireafterdark's Tumblr posts that my brain took as a prompt and this is what came out! Not entirely to order but the gist is there. It's short and not at all sweet. Set in the HS flashback from 2x05.  
> ~ Tas 
> 
> _Tag: I want a flashback of Michael getting out of jail knowing Alex is gone and just collapsing on his bed in tears_

Michael stalked to his truck, anger lengthening his strides until he was practically loping, eating up the ground with each swing of a booted foot. 

_I didn't want the job, so..._

Would Max never learn that Michael didn't want his hand-me-downs or hand-outs? Fuck, the very first time Michael had seen the other two again, they'd left snacks and a hoodie that had clearly belonged to Max. More than six years later and the guy was still so fucking privileged it made Michael's teeth ache. 

How could he not know? It wasn't like Michael had been subtle about his feelings on the subject. 

The keys jangled harshly on the trip from pocket to ignition and as soon as the engine revved to life, Michael slammed the truck into gear and took off, heading straight out of town. He could breathe better in the desert, away from cops and do-gooders alike. 

He was still fuming when he clambered into the bed of the truck and yanked out the sleeping bags and pillows. Only a few more days of this; the job at Foster's came with room and board. It might only be a mattress in the hay loft but it would be a damn sight better when the height of summer had passed him by. The nights cooled rapidly. 

It wasn't until Michael was bundled in his worn bedding, staring at the sky, that it hit him: Alex was gone. 

Really, truly _gone_.

Had it been only last week he'd had Alex spread out on this very sleeping bag, all sun-warmed, golden skin and inviting lips? Until they'd argued, again, about Michael being a waste of space. Another retread of the same old shit, playing on repeat since that day Alex had asked if he were in love with Max. 

Except this time, it had finished running its course and moved on to the consequences. The decision Alex had made, which no amount of pleading could budge. The utter insanity of him throwing away his own life because he thought Michael was wasting his. 

The deadline for his departure. 

Passed, now, without acknowledgement. Without marking this enormous change in any way. And without saying goodbye. 

Tears had already begun slipping down his face, unnoticed. Michael wiped at them but he couldn't stop now that he'd started and soon his body shook in its nylon cocoon, sobs burning his throat and making his stomach hurt worse than the hunger did.

He'd thrown away his last chance to see Alex, maybe ever. It was a dangerous path Alex had chosen. He might not come back and Michael had just let him go. 

Michael turned onto his side, curling up tight around the pain in his heart, and cried until the stars went out. 

[Et fini]


End file.
